


The Masquerade

by sparrow_and_tea



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Masklophobia, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrow_and_tea/pseuds/sparrow_and_tea
Summary: *A series of short stories detailing events leading up to the R.F.A.'s largest party yet: a masquerade charity ball.It's been almost five months since you first arrived at Saeyoung's house in a stolen car with his wounded brother, Saeran, in the passenger seat. Before that, you spent nearly six months at Mint Eye, each day fending off a drug-induced fog from completely overtaking your memories. To put it lightly, you've had a rough year, so when Jaehee first approached you to discuss business concerning the R.F.A., you were suspicious about what it could entail. After much discussion among the original members, she proposed you take over as the party planning coordinator. Your response was a noneloquent, “What?”(Writer's Notes: Part of the White Noise: After Ending Collective. Takes place after my story White Noise, a fictional Saeran route.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> New readers please note: This short story takes place after White Noise, another one of my works detailing a fictional Saeran route. Some backstory and character information pertaining to SaeranxMC will be present. If you're interested in reading White Noise first, please see my account!
> 
> For returning readers: Hello! After all that angst, please enjoy some fluffy, cheesy silliness. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

 

*** 1 ***

**The Masquerade**

 

You're told it will be a masquerade-themed charity event; a beautiful evening inside an elegant ballroom with dashing guests and mouthwatering hors d’oeuvres. Jaehee shows you a collection of photos depicting the booked venue and you gasp. You first notice the crystal chandeliers hanging by delicate chains over the wide, gleaming checker-patterned marble floor, then your eyes move to the fluted Corinthian columns rushing up to meet the balcony which will provide wallflowers and onlookers a view of the dancing participants below. Everything is in a shade of white and gold. The photos spark a recollection of you paging through a bridal magazine once – just out of boredom while waiting in your local hair salon. It makes you remember an advertisement for a particular wedding dress with a beaded and embroidered bust featuring a sweetheart neckline, which led into a fluff of cascading antique-white tulle. It was pretty, you recall. Something you could never afford to wear.

“Are... Are you sure we can host an event this large? It seems like a lot to take on for only our third party,” you say.

“Don't worry. The whole R.F.A. will be behind you all the way. If anything feels too difficult, please call me and I'll do everything I can to help. Mr. Han insists on it.” Jaehee takes a short sip of her coffee.

You look down at the scattered photos once more and take one in your hand. It's like an image from a princess's dream.

“You always work so hard. I don't want you to feel like you have to be my assistant too, Jaehee.”

She smiles at that. “You're too kind, but really this is all part of my job. This will be our largest event yet. Since Mr. Han requested the theme, he has a personal interest in the project and will be invested in it one hundred percent as well. We'll both be here to help.”

You nod, then blow on your steaming cappuccino before taking a sip. It's a bit too hot but you savor the creamy taste.

It's been almost five months since you first arrived at Saeyoung's house in a stolen car with his wounded brother, Saeran, in the passenger seat. Before that, you spent nearly six months at Mint Eye, each day fending off a drug-induced fog from completely overtaking your memories. To put it lightly, you've had a rough year, so when Jaehee first approached you to discuss business concerning the R.F.A., you were suspicious about what it could entail. After much discussion among the original members, she proposed you take over as the party planning coordinator. Your response was a noneloquent, “What?”

The job is fairly simple on paper. You'd speak with potential guests via e-mail or by phone in hopes of persuading them to participate in charity events held by the organization, but little did you know the multitude of attendees and messages there could be. Some days your phone never seemed to stop chiming. The constant socializing was exhausting, but with encouragement from Saeyoung and Saeran, you pushed through and continued performing the job to the best of your ability. Apparently your efforts were satisfactory enough to inspire Jumin to request a masquerade ball. Definitely a huge undertaking.

After the meeting, Jaehee stays behind at the cafe to finish some work but insists you should get back home. It's a cloudy autumn day and she heard there is rain in the forecast. “Get going before you get soaked,” she told you.

While stepping out of the cafe, a familiar spicy scent is carried along the cool, crisp breeze. You realize Saeran is waiting for you, leaning up against one of Saeyoung's expensive looking cars.

“Oh! You didn't have to drive out to get me. I could have taken the bus home,” you say while running over. You fall into a hug while lifting your head for a kiss.

Saeran wraps his arms around you and leans down to catch your lips on his. You always liked how he smiles while he's still kissing you. “It wasn't a problem. Besides, I'm always afraid you'll forget where the house is...”

You pull away while taking his hands into yours. He looks cute today in his beige argyle sweater, his silvery hair falling in tangles across his forehead, and his green eyes underlined with a hint of smokey liner.

“Yeah okay, but more importantly, Saeyoung isn't home, is he,” you say flatly.

“Nope.”

You knew it. There was no way his brother would allow him to take one of his babies out for a drive, even if it was to pick you up from a meeting.

“You realize he's going to be on your ass about this for the next two weeks, right?” you tell Saeran while rounding the car for the passenger side door.

He climbs in and buckles his seat belt while smiling. “He won't.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we're going to get home before he even realizes it's missing.” Saeran laughs and turns the key. The car rumbles to life and suddenly you two are flying down the street for home.

 

* * *

 

“Ohhh, a masquerade, huh?” Saeyoung says while unbagging groceries. After you and Saeran moved in, he quickly realized the two of you couldn't live on Honey Buddha chips and Doctor Pepper alone so he's been making weekly trips to the store. Thank goodness, because he needed some actual food in his diet, too.

“Yup. Apparently it was Jumin's idea,” you tell him while grabbing a bag of vegetables to put away.

“Jumin's? So... will we all be wearing cat shaped masks? Cat ears too?” You both laugh.

“Probably! What if he brings Elizabeth the 3rd \--”

“--And she comes wearing a tiny cat mask over her tiny cat face?” he says excitedly. “So cute!”

“Double cute!”

Saeyoung is grinning. “So when's the party date?”

“I think Jaehee said it's the next month on the 16th.” You trail over to the kitchen island and snatch an unopened bag of Honey Buddha chips from the counter top. These stupid chips were so good. When Saeyoung offered you to try one, you should have never accepted. You're addicted now.

While he puts the rest of the groceries away, you ask, “Do you think we'll have to dance – I mean, like waltzing? That sort of thing?” The thought makes you nervous. Despite your memory loss, you're certain you've never known how to dance.

“Hmm? I assume so,” he says. “What? Don't you know how? Ah – I mean, maybe you did and don't remember..?”

“I don't think I ever knew how to dance. From what I know, that wasn't the kind of life I had. You act like you know how, though.”

“I do.”

“What?” You're about to put another chip in your mouth but stop. Yeah okay. Saeyoung, waltzing? You didn't believe that for a minute.

“Hey, hey don't look so surprised! I know how to dance.”

“The Caramel Dance doesn't count,” you joke. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I'm proving something,” he says.

Saeyoung takes your right hand and places his other on the small of your back, whisking you away from the kitchen island in a fluid motion and causing you to stumble forward into his lead. You drop the bag of chips somewhere in the middle of it all. The two of you are spinning around the kitchen, him moving quickly and gracefully while you continuously trip on your feet. There was a moment you stepped on his and you flushed from embarrassment, but Saeyoung didn't mention it. Instead, he's grinning as if to say 'I told you so.'

After a few spins you pick up on the routine enough to begin enjoying the movement.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

You're smiling now, each spin making you more and more dizzy but he was holding on with a gentle grip, always leading the way.

“Okay, so you can dance!”

He chuckles. Then you're twirling under his hand and away, though still hanging on. Everything happens so fast. Too fast. You whirl back into his chest, his arms catching you before tumbling to the ground from your dizzy spell. The force pushes Saeyoung into the kitchen island and you're both laughing.

“What are you two doing?”

You glance up to see Saeran standing in the door frame to the kitchen as Saeyoung releases you.

“Your brother was teaching me how to waltz,” you explain, catching your breath. “Come here! I want to show you.”

“That's okay,” he says while turning to make a quick exit.

“Get back here.”

“H-Hey!”

You grab his wrist and pull Saeran onto the impromptu dance floor, taking his hand in yours and attempting to lead. He's a mess and you weren't a very good leader – you bumped into the kitchen table twice – but eventually a balance is struck and Saeran is spinning with you across the room. Once the movement smoothed out you noticed how nimble he is, gliding across the floor and taking initiative to twirl you in front of him. With more practice, you know he'd be just as good as Saeyoung.

“See? It's fun, isn't it?”

Saeran tries to stifle a smile.

“Hey, guys!” Saeyoung calls, and you and Saeran look over to see his phone up to record. “Everyone's gonna love this!”

Saeran breaks from you. “No. No, you're not putting that up!”

“Too late! Happening now!” Saeyoung yells while tapping on his phone. “I must share this precious moment with the world!”

Saeran moves towards his brother but Saeyoung bolts down the hall with his phone.

“Get back here!” he shouts.

You can hear Saeyoung's laughter echoing down the hall.

Curious, you pull out your phone and open the R.F.A. messenger.

_707 has entered the chatroom._

“Dammit!” Saeran yells.

Yup, there's the video.

 

* * *

 

Saeran was annoyed.

It wasn't because he was recorded dancing with you through the kitchen, or necessarily because Saeyoung uploaded the video to the chat. No, he was irritated about the ramifications: the video inspired Jumin to suggest they open the party with an introductory waltz performed by all the R.F.A members, and you've known Jumin long enough to understand his suggestions are more like orders.

The idea is exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You enjoyed dancing around Saeyoung's kitchen even if it was brief, but the thought of performing under the scrutiny of hundreds of guests made your heart race and palms sweat. If you tripped, bumped into another couple, or stepped on Saeran's feet, everyone would see. They'd remember. They'd bring it up at every party following the masquerade as an embarrassing anecdote. They'd say, “Weren't you the girl who tripped during the opening at the ball last year?” And you'd giggle uneasily and nod, “That was me! I was never very graceful...” They'd -

You shake your head trying to dispel the chain of anxiety-induced thoughts. They often hit like a car accident on the highway, the first unavoidably setting off a fifty car pile-up. So many worries striking at once.

 _It's fine. You're fine. It will be fine_ , you repeat over and over.

“Do we really have to do this?” Saeran asks. He's leaning against you on the couch, which has been pushed back against the far wall of the living room. Your arm is draped over his shoulder and hanging across his chest while your other hand begins threading through his hair.

Saeyoung busies himself with clearing the rest of the space. “Yup! We have no choice! Don't worry, I'll be a good teacher.”

You shrug. “He was able to teach me. It should be fun.”

“See?” Saeyoung winks and his brother rolls his eyes.

Saeran tilts his head back to tell you, “Don't dance with Zen, okay?”

“We will be switching partners!” Saeyoung replies while shoving the coffee table across the floor. It makes an unsettling screech. “That's how this routine works.”

You laugh as Saeran lets out heavy sigh.

Within the next twenty minutes everyone starts arriving. Jumin and Jaehee are first and come bearing two bottles of wine for Saeyoung – a sweet white and a spiced red.

“Our thanks for having you host,” Jaehee says while handing him the bottles. They're transported back into the kitchen.

Zen arrives next. Two minutes in and he's already going on about how romantic this will be, though he hates it was Jumin's idea.

“Do you know how to waltz, Zen?” If anyone in the group knew, you'd bet he did.

He smiles. “Of course!” And then Jaehee is there, glasses gleaming, and telling you about his previous roles where he was required to perform some sort of dance routine. Saeran is standing next to you pretending to listen to the conversation, though he didn't speak.

Then Yoosung makes an appearance ten minutes later. “Sorry, sorry! I was helping one of my guild members with a speed run and lost track of time. Oh no, everyone's here already! Am I the last one?”

“You're not that late,” you try to reassure.

Yoosung gives an embarrassed grin and takes a seat on the couch.

“No time for rest, Yoosung! Get up! Okay, we're going to start,” Saeyoung chimes from the other side of the room. In his hands is a small bag.

“What do you have?” you ask, standing on tip toe to see.

“I'm glad you asked!” Saeyoung says. “In this bag I have some accessories. Everyone line up and take one!”

“Dude... really?” Zen replies. “Why do we need accessories..?”

“I'm not reaching in there first,” Saeran says.

“Seconded. Can we just start?” Jumin sounds exasperated already.

When you see no one moving, you decide to be the brave one. “I'll do it.”

“Alright! Our first contestant is the lovely lady on the left! Come on down!” Saeyoung holds out the paper bag and you cautiously put your hand inside. Your fingers touch fabric. Smooth, silky, and course.

You pull out a polka dotted bow tie and giggle while clasping it around your neck like a choker. You turn then, showing off your accessory. “Ta-da!”

Jaehee sighs. “Really, Seven...”

Yoosung starts laughing. “Let me pick next!”

Within the next few minute, everyone is putting on their selected bow ties. Though Jumin arrived in his suit, Saeyoung clips a bow over his regular tie. He doesn't seem too pleased.

“If this damages the fabric, I'll be sending you a bill,” he tells him.

You finish clipping a silvery pin-striped bow onto Zen's collar when Saeyoung says, “Now we can start! Since Jumin and Zen already know how to waltz, you'll both be pairing up with those who don't so you can teach them.”

“Assistant Kang, you can dance with me,” you hear Jumin say. Her response is another sigh.

“Babe, do you want me to teach you?” Zen asks, already taking your hand. “I played a prince who had a waltzing scene in a small production once. You can pretend to be my princess.”

You stifle a laugh when you see the expression on Saeran's face. “I – uh...”

“I'll be instructing her and Saeran,” Saeyoung says cheerfully from behind Zen. He's startled enough to jump. “But Yoosung can be your pretty princess!”

Yoosung comes over to join the conversation with a sheepish smile. “I'll be what?”

“Nothing,” Zen says suddenly. “Okay fine, I'll teach Yoosung. I suppose a princess should dance with her true prince, anyway.” He gives your hand to Saeran and goes with Yoosung to an open space on the floor to begin practicing.

“You're welcome,” Saeyoung whispers to his brother, then turns to you. “Okay, let's get started.”

Over the next half hour everyone works on the basic steps. Saeyoung switches between you and Saeran as part of his demonstration and it amuses you to see the two brothers dancing hand in hand across the room in circles. Saeyoung's grin never leaves his face while Saeran appears to be in deep concentration. Zen and Yoosung bumped into them once, causing Saeyoung to lose his footing and tumble to the floor, dragging his brother down with him. While you observe, you notice Jumin and Jaehee moving about the room gracefully. You wonder if Jumin's a good teacher or if Jaehee tends to pick up on things quickly. Perhaps it's both.

Then you and Saeran are back to practicing together as Saeyoung vanishes into the kitchen for a few moments.

“Once you get it down, it doesn't seem too hard,” you tell Saeran. His black bow tie is clipped to the leather collar around his neck.

“No, it isn't. I just wish we didn't have to dance in front of so many people.”

“I know. I'm worried about that too.” His confession makes you feel a little better. At least you aren't the only one who's nervous.

When Saeyoung returns, you and Saeran stop next to him while he calls over Jumin to explain the actual routine everyone will be performing. It's doesn't seem too difficult, but it requires switching partners throughout the number. While you're listening, you catch a whiff of ginger, cinnamon, and orange. You can't figure out the source, though it smells good.

“This is just our first practice tonight to get an understanding of the basics,” Jumin explains. “After, we will be working with additional guests. Assistant Kang has already contacted your future dance partners and they'll be included in the following practice sessions which will be held in a more public location.”

“So we're going to have dates?” Yoosung asks, unable to hide his fluster. His face looks a little red.

“Not quite. They will be attending the party and participating in the introductory waltz,” Jaehee clarifies. “Since there is a couple among us, they will be dancing together instead. Everyone else will have a designated partner.”

You nudge Saeran's arm and smile at him.

“Sounds good to me,” Zen says with a grin. “I look forward to meeting my lady.”

Jumin begins teaching a preview of the routine. Saeyoung takes over as Jaehee's partner, though it doesn't matter when it came time to switch. You wind up dancing with Zen after all.

“You're learning quick!” he says as the two of you spin.

“I haven't stepped on anyone's feet in the past twenty minutes, so that's a good sign, right?” you joke.

“Very good,” he responds playfully. “Are you excited for the party?”

He raises your hand and you twirl in front of him. “I am, but I'm a bit nervous too. I don't think I've ever been to a party like this before,” you admit.

“Do you have stage fright because of the performance?”

“I guess so. There's going to be a lot of people there watching.”

There's a moment where the two of you step away. He bows to you and after, you pretend to curtsy. Then the two of you are dancing again.

“Oh, well...” he says, his words trailing off into the spin.

“What?”

“It's just I had this dream the other night, about the ball. I don't know if I want to tell you though. I don't want you to be more nervous than you are right now.”

The knot starts tangling in your stomach. “Well if you don't tell me, it will be worse,” you scold lightly. “What was your dream?”

He pauses, but then says, “We were at the masquerade and performed the waltz, but at the end you ran off the floor and into the crowd. You looked scared. Saeran chased after you.”

You stumble but regain your footing quickly. “O-Oh... Well, it's just a dream right? It's not like it will happen.”

“Hah... yeah but– Dude, watch it!” Zen snaps as Yoosung bumps into you. “What is wrong with you?”

You suddenly catch a whiff of orange and ginger again and glance over to see Yoosung grinning. He's moving loosely with Saeyoung as the lead... a little too loosely.

“Zen, I think your princess is tipsy,” Saeyoung informs him. “Ow! Watch my feet!”

“ _My_ princess?” Zen shoots back.

“Oh my god, Yoosung, what did you do?” you chastise teasingly.

This catches Saeran and Jaehee's attention, and Jumin's who is currently helping them. The dance is still going even while everyone is distracted.

“Yoosung... you didn't,” Jaehee starts.

“I only had a glass,” he admits. “The bottle was already open.”

Saeran starts laughing and it causes you to smile.

“The bottle was open because _I_ had a drink of _my_ gift-wine,” Saeyoung tells him. “You thief!”

Jumin calls an end to the practice after that.

 

* * *

 

It all starts when Saeyoung's phone meows. While you finish eating lunch, you watch him pull out his phone and check the message he just received. Saeran also glances over curiously.

“It's here!” Saeyoung shouts. He reaches for your hand and holds it in the air. “We are leaving!”

“Wait, what?” He's already pulling you to your feet.

Saeran jumps up quickly. “Where are you going?”

“We're going shopping for the party,” Saeyoung informs the two of you.

“Shopping? When did this happen?” you ask while being tugged along towards the door. “Can't I change out of my sweatpants?” You glance back down the hallway towards your bedroom longingly.

“Nope! We're leaving now,” Saeyoung says. “Grab a coat!”

“Wait, wait,” Saeran repeats while following the both of you. “I'm coming too.”

As if pulled along by a swift current, you obey Saeyoung, pull on a jacket, and are swept towards the door.

“You can't. It's a shopping day for just us girls.”

“But you're not a girl!” you hear Saeran shout angrily as the door closes behind you both.

Outside waiting is one of Jumin's polished cars shining brightly under the golden autumn sunlight. Mr. Kim is standing stiffly in his suit by the back passenger door. He opens it to let you both inside and you slide across the leather seat sandwiching yourself between Jaehee and Saeyoung. Jumin is also there, appearing handsome as ever in his tailored and pressed business suit. Everyone says their salutations while the driver enters and begins steering the car away from the house.

After a few minutes, you become self conscious of your appearance and your cheeks prickle with heat. While Jaehee and Jumin are both poised in their rigid but professional attire, you're sitting next to them in black sweat pants, a heather-gray sweater, and a light-weight olive green jacket. Even Saeyoung looks more put together in his dark wash jeans, a cotton T-shirt and his casual black and yellow zip-up hoodie.

“You seriously couldn't have let me change?” you hiss to Saeyoung.

After about twenty minutes, Driver Kim drops the four of you in front of a quaint boutique downtown in the city. Tall glass windows display slender mannequins in elegant poses wearing beautiful bell-shaped gowns of tulle, gems, silk, lace and rhinestone. Presented on nearby tables are clutches, gloves, shoes and jewelry to compliment each dress. They look expensive...

“Are you coming in?” Jaehee calls.

You follow.

Once inside, you are again painfully aware of your sweats when a young woman with bouncing blond curls comes over to greet everyone, her smile as radiant as her whitened teeth. As she moves, her heels click against the glossy hardwood floors.

“So are we getting dresses for these two lovely ladies today?” she asks.

You and Jaehee follow her to the back of the store.

After explaining the two of you will be participating in a masquerade ball, the saleswoman begins pulling ballroom gowns in shades of white: eggshell, antique, ivory and vanilla. There were so many styles available and your eyes roved over the fabrics, stones, embroidery, and lace. Some dresses shimmered, calling for a wearer who is glamorous and outspoken, yet charming and fun while other dresses were modest, seeking a woman with classic tastes, perhaps one who enjoyed wine, red roses and diamond jewelry. You idly wonder which dress is calling for you.

While you and Jaehee are in the changing room, you try to get her attention. “Jaehee..?”

“Yes?”

“You... You guys know I can't afford anything here, right? I can't even rent one of these dresses for the evening,” you say while your hands search for the zipper.

“Oh. Did Saeyoung not tell you?” The door to Jaehee's dressing room opens with a squeak.

“Tell me what?”

“Jumin is taking care of it. It's for the party, so you don't need to worry,” she says.

“A-Are you sure?” You're never going to get used to this.

“Yes, of course. Find something you like.”

Three dresses in and Saeyoung and Jumin make an appearance in the back, taking a seat on the guest booths by the full length mirrors next to the private changing rooms. Saeyoung provided commentary every time you stepped out to see yourself. Somehow, his remarks narrated your thoughts.

“Too shiny. Too plain. Too much ruche on the waist - very unflattering. What is that? A bow above your butt?”

You giggle while leaning back to glance at the bow. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“It doesn't look that bad,” Jumin offers.

“Oh no, it's bad,” Saeyoung says.

The blond saleswoman is patient though and even genuinely laughs at Saeyoung's banter. “Sweetie, maybe if you give me some hints, we can find the perfect dress for you.”

“I'm sorry, I've just never shopped for anything like this before,” you admit.

Then you hear, “Got it!” from somewhere behind you in another room.

“Sir? Sir, please don't go back there!” the saleswoman calls. “Guests aren't allow to pull the dresses.”

Too late. Saeyoung is already carrying an ivory ballgown towards you. It's swathed in protective plastic wrappings like all the other dresses you've tried on.

“Here,” he says while handing it over. “I want to see you in this one.”

While Jumin and Jaehee speak with the professional in-house tailor about alterations, you once again return to the private fitting room with Saeyoung's selection. Growing curious, you unwrap the dress from the plastic to get a better look. Already you know you'll be wearing it to the masquerade.

It's an off-white strapless ballgown with a semi-sweetheart neckline, the bust lightly detailed with floral embroidery and lace. Even on the door, the fabric drapes beautifully, giving an ethereal impression. As you begin pulling on the dress, you notice the laces and grommets down the back. It's a corset. The top is also reinforced with steel bones to give it shape - an interesting surprise.

“Excuse me?” you call, hoping to get the attendant's attention.

“Do you need help?” Saeyoung asks.

“Yeah. Isn't the saleswoman there? I can't tie this by myself.”

“She's helping Jumin and Jaehee right now. Do you want me to help?”

You contemplate a moment. Really, someone just needed to pull the laces tight. You shyly peek out from behind the door. “Yes, please.”

Stepping out of the dressing room, you cautiously hold up the bust with one hand while the other lifts the gown away from your feet. You stop in front of the full length mirrors while Saeyoung begins picking at the laces down your back, tightening each crisscross one by one.

“Just let me know when it's too tight,” he says.

While he works, the corset shrinks to hug and accentuate the soft curves of your waist. Though the dress appears delicate, the steel bones hidden within the panels makes it feel like armor. You appreciate the striking duality.

Saeyoung finishes knotting the back and you're both staring in admiration. You move side to side within the confines of the bust, then spin once, watching the gown flare like a blooming flower.

You love it.

“I have to admit, you have good taste in dresses,” you say, breaking the silence.

“Why, thank you! It really does look good on you, though. I know for a fact Saeran will love it,” he says, his hand on your waist.

You blush.

“Now... I should look for what _I'll_ be wearing to the ball,” he says. “What dress should I try?”

“Oh, can I pick one? How about that dress with the bow on the butt. It's still in the changing room!”

“That's terrible! I'll do it!”

Saeyoung snickers and disappears into the dressing room. Moments later he reemerges in the awkward dress, grinning, and his hands on his hips like some couture model. He blows you a kiss.

“How does it look better on you?” you exclaim.

 

* * *

 

“It seems too loose. I could get out of this,” you say.

“Go on then, try,” Saeran insists. He's watching you expectantly.

In the background you hear your phone chime. Another e-mail about the party, you presume. There's less than a week left until the masquerade.

You ignore it and attempt to slip out from the black tape. Pulling did nothing, so you try twisting your wrists, then pick at it with your fingers but they couldn't reach. “Huh...”

“Told you,” he says while tossing the roll of tape across the bed. “Are you sure you're okay with this? If you decide you want it off at any point, tell me.”

You're in the bedroom you two share, standing in black laced underwear while your arms are bound by the wrists in front of you. Saeran wrapped them in bondage tape, a sort of PVC which sticks to itself but not the skin. Though you're hesitant to give up complete autonomy even for a quick fantasy with someone you trust, you're at least comfortable starting off with some light restraint.

You nod. “It's fine, just as long as there's no blind fold, okay?”

“I know. You like to watch what I do to you.” He isn't completely wrong about that...

Saeran leans in and kisses you on the lips. It's slow and full of desire. You kiss back tempting him to stay, but he moves to your cheek. Another kiss. Then his lips graze a warm trail across your skin moving towards your neck. His third kiss summons goosebumps down your arms. Saeran draws out the sensations and anticipation with his tongue and teeth while his hands slide along your waist.

 _Chime_.

You can feel him smile against your skin, then he pulls away. “Should I turn off your phone?”

“Just ignore it,” you say. “They should stop soon since it's getting late.”

So he continues.

Saeran pushes you backwards onto the bed and you're caught by the crisp linens; they're cool against your heated skin. He crawls over you, raising your bound arms above your head and begins placing wet kisses across the top of your breasts. You twist underneath him in delight as he slides a hand up your thigh.

Then your phone rings.

Saeran's head falls against your chest and he sighs. “Do you need to answer that?”

You bite your lip. You really probably should... With the party only days away, every message and call was crucial in securing guest attendance. “I'm sorry. Can you uh, get it for me?” you say while gesturing with your bound hands.

The two of you get off the bed. He snatches your phone from the nightstand and answers the call while holding it against your ear. It's an awkward position. You also try not to think about how naked you are. “H-Hello? Oh! Hi, Rui. How are you this evening?”

Saeran is standing behind you, his chin resting on your left shoulder while he holds the phone against your right ear. His other hand idly strokes your side or brushes against your stomach. You flinch when he hits a sensitive spot.

“I'm doing well! Say, I'm sorry to call so late but I just received your invitation to the party. I've been out of the country shooting for a solo exhibition,” Rui explains. “I only got in this evening.”

“That sounds exciting,” you say. “I hope you can tell me all about it at the party.”

Saeran's fingers begin tracing along the lacy top of your panties. You try to ignore it and instead concentrate on the conversation.

“Well, I have some questions if you have a few minutes.”

“Of course. What did you want to know?” you ask while Saeran's hand drifts lower. He starts kissing your neck again, his face nuzzling into your hair, his bare chest pressing against your back.

 _Focus_.

“I understand this to be a masquerade party. Can you elaborate a bit on the theme? I've been to a few masquerades myself and they can vary greatly.”

His fingers rub along the front of your panties between your legs and your breath catches for a moment before you answer, “U-Uh yes, the theme... The _theme_. The party will be extravagant and elegant. I'm sure you've seen the venue linked in the invitation I sent?”

“Oh, no - I must have missed that. Hang on, let me check.”

You hear Rui tapping on their keyboard over the phone. While you wait, your mind drifts to the deepening, pleasurable warmth between your thighs.

“Wow!” Rui shouts. It causes you to snap back to the conversation. “I apologize – I didn't realize this was the booked venue. If I did, I wouldn't have bothered to ask.”

“It's quite alright,” you say. “Happens all the time. Did you have any other questions you needed me to answer?”

“Actually, yes, now that you mention it. I was hoping you could suggest which camera I should bring. I'm torn between my Olymbus X20 or Ganon.”

“Hmm, good question. I think for this party you should b-bring- Ahh!”

While you were answering, Saeran slipped his hand underneath your panties and the sudden contact made you jolt backwards, causing him to accidentally drop the phone on the floor.

“You jerk!” you whisper angrily.

“Hello? Are you there? What happened?” you can hear Rui asking from the other end.

Saeran scrambles to pick up the phone and return it to your ear. You can feel him holding back his laughter behind you.

“I-I'm sorry! I saw a spider crawling on me and I accidentally dropped the phone! I have a phobia. Do you hate spiders too? I hate them...” you ramble like an idiot.

Saeran is still trying to stifle his laughter and you kick him in the shin to keep quiet.

“Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't like them either,” Rui says. “Now, what were you going to say?”

“Yes. Right... I was going to suggest you bring the Ganon. I hear it has more manual functions and higher megapixels than the Olymbus X20. I'm sure you'll want to capture every last detail of the ballroom's architecture and the intricacies of the masks our guests will be wearing.”

“Hm, you do have a point...” Rui pauses, considering your words. “Yeah, I can't pass this up. I'll definitely be there! Thanks for the invitation!”

“Wonderful! We can't wait to see you there,” you say politely. “Have a lovely evening.”

“You too!”

After Rui hangs up, you spin around and begin playfully hitting Saeran with your bound hands. “I can't believe you did that!”

He finally lets go of his laughter and fends off your light strikes. “I'm sorry. You got the guest though, right?”

“I did, but no thanks to you,” you say with a heavy sigh while sitting on edge of the bed.

Saeran puts the phone back on the nightstand and sits next to you, placing his chin back on your shoulder and running his hand down your arm towards the tape. You feign anger but glance over. His pale eyes are watching and he's smiling deviously.

“Don't be mad. Let me make it up to you,” he offers, and kisses your collar. A shiver runs through you.

He slides from the bed and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, his hands gently tugging at your panties.

 

* * *

 

_Breathe. Just breathe deep breathes._

_One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight..._

_Breathe out._

_One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight..._

_Again..._

It's the night of the masquerade. In two hours you will be performing the waltz downstairs on the ballroom floor in front of hundreds of prestigious guests, their dates, waiters, photographers, videographers, and journalists. Adrenaline is coursing through you like a warm current and begging your body to move, to just go and never stop running. Three times the hair stylist asked you to stop tapping your leg, so you fidget with your hands instead, twining your fingers together or picking at your freshly manicured nails.

Jaehee notices your nerves from the chair next to you. “Hey, it will be alright. I saw you at practice yesterday. You and Saeran danced perfectly together.”

“Sure,” you respond lightly, but the knot keeps tangling.

While the stylist tousles her hair to create texture, Jaehee offers a bright, reassuring smile. “You know, I asked Zen once what he did to get over his stage fright before a show – this was at an earlier time in his career of course. He told me he pretends the audience isn't there. He imagines he is back at rehearsal and going over the routine for the hundredth time because when he walks out on that stage, he can't even see the audience underneath the bright lights. They don't exist. It's only you and your cast. Your friends,” she tells you. “We'll all be there with you.”

“Thanks for the encouragement, Jaehee,” you say sincerely.

While the stylist twists your hair into an up-do, you wonder if you've always been an anxious person or if this is merely a parting gift from Mint Eye. So far, the memories you've recovered while staying with Saeyoung and Saeran lead you to believe you were a more confident, easy going person before your contact with the Savior and her disciples. Maybe past-you would be thrilled at the prospect of waltzing with handsome men before such a large audience...

A hundred hair pins later, the make-up artists arrive and begin working. After light layers of foundation, mineral powder, primer, eye shadow, liquid liner, mascara, lip color, and gloss, your artist spins you before the mirror and a complete stranger is staring back through the glass. You raise a hand to your face.

“No touching,” the make-up artist chastises while organizing their tools.

“Sorry!” You couldn't help it; you looked like a doll come to life.

Curiously, you glance over at Jaehee as her assistant pulls away. Her skin is smoothed with powder, eye lids brushed with platinum gold and her lips accentuated with amber lipstick.

“Damn. We look great,” you blurt out.

She tilts her head as if to say 'really...', then starts laughing.

The assistants help the two of you into your ballgowns. While you're being laced, Jaehee is slipping into her pearlescent heels and putting on diamond-fashioned earrings. When she's finished, the attendant clips a gold necklace around her neck, the small diamond pendant hanging against her chest. Then you see the golden mask in a black velvet lined box on the side table. As the attendant slips it over Jaehee's eyes and works on securing the ribbons, an uneasy sensation begins creeping into your stomach.

“Oh!” Jaehee says from the mirror, breaking her usual professional demeanor. For once, she's actually admiring herself. She turns to you with a smile, her eyes nearly hidden behind the mask's shadow.

You try to ignore your discomfort. “The mask is beautiful...”

You're jewelry is a requested set of silver earrings and a necklace inlaid with small, iridescent moonstones. Jumin suggested something more refined, but you couldn't bear the idea of wearing any jewelry more expensive than your dress. The last thing you needed tonight was to worry over losing a pair of six-hundred-dollar earrings.

Once your jewelry is in place, the assistant arrives next to you with a white mask featuring scrolling embroidery and fashioned with fluffy feathers on one side. They place it over your face and your heart beats a little faster. Though you can see clearly, it feels stifling somehow.

You and Jaehee are then standing by the door. “Are you ready?”

Truthfully, you're growing more apprehensive by the minute.

 _Not tonight,_ you scold _._

This party is a milestone for the R.F.A. and you're not going to ruin it for everyone by losing control. You think about the hours everyone spent learning the routine, all the e-mails and phone calls you answered, Jaehee's troubles and sleepless nights while organizing this party, and Jumin's endless generosity for funding the event, even going so far as to purchasing this gown for you as a gift despite your numerous, polite refusals. All these things culminated to this moment, so you bite back these troubling feelings and drive them into the pit of your stomach for when you can deal with them later.

You nod, feeling the feathers on your mask drift through the air. “Yes, I'm ready.”

When Jaehee opens the door, it's as if you step over the threshold to another world. At first you hear the echoing voices and laughter of men and women greeting each other excitedly, their rush of words creating a rhapsodic din in the lobby. There's a static in the air generated by the energy of the incoming crowd which causes your skin to prickle with anticipation. For a moment you're engulfed in exhilaration until you peer over the banister to see a room full of veiled figures, every face covered with some sort of mask.

You pull away as your heart leaps into your throat, choking back your gasp.

 _No, you're okay. Stop being like this_ , you think. _You're not at Mint Eye. These people are your friends. You know who they are..._

While following Jaehee down the staircase, you again gaze across the crowd cautiously. Most guests wore colombina-style masks – the kind which only covers their eyes, nose, and cheeks – like yours. But moving silently through the throng of attendants are other, more lavish figures dressed in embroidered clothes; large hats or crowns, some featuring feathers; and full-faced porcelain masks. Their eye sockets are black and unseeing. One figure grips an ornate cane.

You look away quickly as your chest tightens, instead focusing on Jaehee in front of you. That's when you hear a long, drawn out whistle from the bottom of the stairs.

Zen reaches for your hand while you hop off the last step. He bows and kisses it, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “You look absolutely exquisite,” he says with a wolfish grin.

All the men in the R.F.A. are dressed in black tuxedos and Zen is no exception, but each mask varies with it's host – a secret detail which has left you curious for over a week. Zen's mask is a delicate, burnished silver resembling romantic antique lace. It's more reveling than other masks, and you get lost following along the curvaceous coils and curls of the pattern. You're put at ease when you can see his crimson eyes peering through.

“Thank you,” you reply, and he drops your hand while turning to Jaehee to issue the same greeting. Her face turns a fair shade of pink.

“Where is everyone else?” Jaehee asks.

You chance another look around but quickly return your focus to Zen. It's safer to keep your attention on him instead of the meandering guests and the silent, stalking figures in the full-faced masks.

“They're already in the ballroom waiting for the waltz to start. I'm here to escort you both inside,” he explains.

You and Jaehee link arms with Zen and move across the lobby towards the main entrance of the ballroom. The photos Jaehee showed you last month in the cafe hardly contained the actual immeasurable opulence of the architecture and space. Once inside, there is no doubt you've been transported into a princess's dream and it makes you a bit dizzy.

The crystal chandeliers cast a warm, ambient glow over the attendants and the expansive, polished checkered marble dance floor. Everyone is either wearing a gown or suit. You see silky mermaid dresses, bell-shaped ball gowns, flowing princess-style slips, black tuxedos and pressed suits. Many women carry jewels at their throats, their clutches tied to their wrists, while their heels click musically across the glossy floor. You watch masked waiters weave through the crowd with their silvery trays full of savory treats while others carefully carry glasses of fizzing champagne. Perfume and cologne wafts through the air, each scent tangling together to fill the room; fruity and floral notes mix with sultry spices and sensual musk. Across the way you see a tall figure fully concealed under cloth and porcelain. It's bottomless eyes stare your way before slowly surveying the rest of the room like some kind of hungry predator. You're breathing erratically and even Zen glances over to see if you're alright.

“You have a bit of that stage fright, don't you babe? I know, I feel it a little too.” He laughs. “Even after so many performances... But we'll be fine!”

You try to nod and smile, but it's unnatural and forced.

Then you see Saeran standing next to his brother engaged in conversation, his face partially hidden in a black mask fashioned with feathers very similar to yours. Saeyoung nudges his side and points in your direction. Saeran turns, pulling a double take. Even from behind the mask, you see his bright eyes widen.

You untangle yourself from Zen's arm and rush over. He catches you in a hug.

Though your heart is beating quickly, your uneasiness ebbs away while you're in his arms.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“She's nervous about the dance, that's all,” Zen tells him while he and Jaehee find their seats on the sidelines near the band. They begin socializing with Yoosung, Jumin and their partners.

“Ohhh, are you still scared to perform?” Saeyoung asks then.

You bite your tongue.

_Stop being ridiculous._

“N-No, no I'm fine!” you tell them both. “Really, it's okay. We're going to do great out there.”

Saeyoung smiles at that but Saeran is less certain. “You're shaking,” he whispers, so only you can hear.

“I'll be alright,” you reply confidently, for his sake and yours.

He smiles reluctantly and decides to change the subject. “I really like this dress on you... You're beautiful,” he says, his fingers running over the laces of your corset.

Your face grows warm. “Thank you. Your brother actually picked it out.” You glance at Saeyoung, but he's distracted by the guests.

“Oh, did he,” Saeran says flatly.

“He said he'd knew you'd love it. Guess he was right.” You grin more easily this time.

“Imagine that...” he replies, his words trailing off into the echoing noise of the ballroom. Saeran looks distracted.

You grab his hands to call him back. “Are you ready to get this over with?”

“Definitely.”

You both laugh uncomfortably, then you lean in to give him a kiss on his cheek below the mask. In that moment, you forget you're wearing lipstick and accidentally leave behind a scarlet print.

“Ah...oops!”

Saeran raises a hand to his face to wipe it off.

“No, don't touch it! It will get all over our clothes then. Oh no... I need a napkin....” you glance around for a waiter, but see none. “I'm sorry! I forgot I was wearing lipstick!”

“It's fine,” he says. “We have time-”

Then you hear a voice over the loudspeakers calling for the official start of the masquerade charity event.

 

* * *

 

Saeran is sitting next to you, your mark still displayed prominently on his cheek. You never did find a waiter before everyone took their designated positions.

“What is that?” Zen asks. He's peering from his seat past his dance partner. She, Yoosung and Jumin also glance over.

“What does it look like,” Saeran shoots back.

Even if Saeran doesn't mind the mark, you're still embarrassed. So much for not messing anything up tonight.

Saeyoung pats your hand as if sensing your concern. “Don't worry about it. Hardly anyone will be able to see it while we're dancing, anyway,” he reassures.

“It's actually quite cute,” Saeyoung's partner interjects from her seat. She's flashing a comforting smile.

“Like the lady says,” he chimes.

“Thanks, guys.”

While the band tunes their instruments, the guests inside the ballroom begin clearing the floor and speaking in whispers. You catch a few flashes from photographers' cameras and notice a video tripod set up near the sidelines. Still leering in the crowd are the shrouded figures, their white faces and pitted-eyes staring in your direction.

You palms begin to sweat and you rub them against the fabric of your dress.

Instead of scanning the crowd, you glance up towards the balcony to admire the columns and architecture, but see another dark figure wearing a beaked mask leaning over the marble banister. Suddenly, it jerks it's attention towards you and you're nerves jolt, sending a wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You fixate on the checker-patterned floor after that, concentrating on your breathing.

Then the announcer is back, introducing the musical number and the dance to be performed.

 _It's fine. You're fine. It will be fine_ , you repeat over and over...

A hush sweeps across the room as the band readies their instruments and waits for the conductor to begin.

Just like every practice before, you hear the slow, familiar opening signaling every male member of the R.F.A to stand one-by-one in front of their partner. Saeran stands before you, then bows and extends his hand. You take hold and rise as he leads you to the center of the floor with the others.

Jaehee and Zen are right: it feels just like practice. The surrounding crowd melts into the background and becomes a blur. It's only you and Saeran focusing on the waltz.

The routine unfolds smoothly, each movement a muscle memory you've been reinforcing for weeks. It's safe. Predictable. The continuous counting of the rhythm fills your thoughts while Saeran's touch dispels your anxiety like it's done so many times before. You smile briefly before you whirl away, then return to his arms.

As the dance continues, it's time to make your first transition. While the men pause, all the ladies spin to their next partner. Your dress flares, and the world rushes by until Saeyoung catches you. Over his shoulder you notice a bright porcelain face peering from the crowd.

You trip. It's slight, but enough for Saeyoung to notice.

“Whoa, you okay?”

“Nerves,” you say quickly.

While the two of you twirl across the marble floor, you focus briefly on the details of his motley mask. Like yours, Saeyoung's covers only a portion of his face but instead features red, black and gold diamond patterns. The brows are also arched, the hollow eyes forever locked in amusement. You find Saeyoung's golden eyes behind the mask and hold them, afraid to look anywhere else.

Before you know it, you're whirling out of his reach and into Jumin's strong and confident grip. Your smile widens when you see his cat-shaped mask resting above his serious, tight-lipped expression.

“What is it?” he asks in that low, near monotone voice.

“Nothing...” you say.

As he lifts you briefly through the air, you notice the shrouded figure with the beaked mask leaning over the banister again, shoulders hunched and resembling a predatory bird ready to take flight. Then your heels touch the floor, sending a jolt to your heart. The adrenaline kicks in once more, causing your motions to become jittery instead of graceful.

“Everything's alright,” Jumin says calmly, sensing your growing apprehension.

You spin before him, the stark white faces in the crowd piercing through the blur of color.

Were they getting closer?

Your chest tightens as Jumin releases you sooner than anticipated. You stumble into Yoosung, and there's an audible gasp from the audience. From the corner of your eye, you catch Saeran glancing back to see if you're alright.

“Ah! Y-You're not tipsy, are you?” Yoosung whispers.

“I'm not. Just got a little dizzy. Sorry about that,” you tell him as you try to steady your breathing.

He sighs in relief. “Oh, good.”

You search for Yoosung's amethyst-colored eyes behind his celestial mask of Prussian blue, gold and silver. He blushes hard while you maintain your stare.

Spin.

Whirl.

Curtsy.

You fall back into the routine from practice.

Zen catches you next, his lips automatically curling into a smile when you arrive.

“Hello, beautiful” he greets while leaning into you.

You're too distracted to answer. As you spin, you keep spotting the blank faces with the empty eyes. They're stalking through the crowd, always seeming to appear in a different place when you come back around.

On your third spin with Zen, the masked figure with the ornate cane from the lobby is there in front of the guests. Watching. Waiting for you. You imagine the cane cutting through the air. You remember the leather strip.

You gasp as you land on your heel wrong, rolling your ankle painfully.

Zen keeps you steady and tightens his grasp. “Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I'm fine.” But you feel as if a snake is constricting your body, squeezing the air from your lungs while your heart is racing. You're becoming lightheaded.

 _The waltz is almost over. You can do this_...

You're released to Jaehee's initial dance partner. You spin once, twice, three times and land in his arms while stifling a cry. Glowering down at you is an intimidating, square mask concealing his entire face, only dark eyes peering threateningly from the sockets. There is no mouth. No expression.

Your legs struggle to carry you through the rest of the dance. Your fingers go numb in his palm. He thrusts you into another spin towards the audience as if sacrificing you to the porcelain faced monsters but then reconsiders, forcing you back into his broad chest. You're caught like a bird in a cage, your captor deciding to keep you for himself.

Above the crescendo of the music you hear cackling voices. Up in the balcony, the figure with the beaked-bird mask is now flanked with two other long-nosed forms, their mouths permanently upturned in jest. You see one of them point. They're pointing at you. You're marked. They'll be coming after you soon.

Your draw in shaky breaths but exhale just as fast, unable to keep the air in your lungs.

The masked man stops dancing and you falter at his side, holding your chest and gasping. For too long you've ignored the need to run, and suddenly you're tearing off across the marble floor, heels clacking loudly and filling the silence the orchestra left in it's wake.

The audience gasps and whispers, their voices twisting together in mockery.

You hear footsteps gaining from behind which sends your body into a panic.

_Faster!_

_They're coming for you!_

You burst through a side door and sprint down the empty hallway. The carpet muffles your footfalls.

You turn into a nook and slam yourself up against the wall, gripping your chest and sucking in air. The knot of anxiety is unraveling rapidly.

A hand grips your left arm and you jerk away, your eyes darting to see who is touching you.

“Hey,” Saeran calls gently. “Hey, it's okay. You're okay.”

Reflexively you pull off his mask to reveal his full face just to be sure it's him. The mark you left on his cheek is still there, too.

You heave a dry sob while he wraps you protectively in his arms and presses his forehead against yours. The next moment you feel the ribbon of your mask coming undone and it slipping from your face to the floor with his.

“Shhh,” he whispers, and kisses your temple. “You're alright.”

Tears roll down your cheeks as you think about the porcelain faces, the bird-like mask, the figure with the ornate cane, and the veiled disciples from Mint Eye. Though your previous life's past may remain a hazy dream, everything that happened to you inside Mint Eye is still a vivid memory left mostly untouched by the Savior's small white pills.

As the knot inside of you unravels and flings you further away from reality, you grip harder onto Saeran. Letting go means breaking away completely.

While you gasp for breaths, you hear his voice cut through your panicky thoughts of the shrouded figures.

“One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight...” he counts slowly. “One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight...”

You focus on his words and try to inhale deeply. At first you can only make it to one or two seconds before exhaling in a rush, but soon enough, you're making it to three, then to five, then all the way to eight seconds. Your lungs expand, tightening your bust against your corset, then you're drawing out your exhales and evening your breathing with his.

“How are you feeling?” Saeran's pale green eyes are searching yours.

You glance around skittishly as reality sets in. Your body is left cold after the adrenaline rush. “I... think I'm fine...”

He sighs with relief and kisses your forehead, drawing you close to him again.

You sink into his embrace until you remember. “Oh no. Oh god, the dance! I ruined it... I ruined all of it!”

Saeran pulls back to look at you. “Don't worry about that right now. It isn't important.”

But you're starting to shake again. “Of course it's important... I can't believe this happened. What is wrong with me?”

“Stop,” he demands quietly. “It's not you're fault.”

“It's those damn masks,” you finally admit. “I'm so stupid. I should have realized this would happen when Jaehee first mentioned the masquerade...”

“Stop... How could you have known?”

You go silent as you hear other footsteps coming down the hall now.

Saeran glances out from the nook to see who's coming. “Saeyoung...”

Saeyoung and Jaehee arrive.

“Saeran! Is she okay?” his brother shouts.

“Are you alright? What happened out there?” Jaehee asks. You're afraid of her being angry or disappointed, but instead her voice is full of worry.

You have trouble finding your words as they're swallowed by your growing embarrassment. “I-I...”

“She had a panic attack,” Saeran tells them.

“A panic attack?” Saeyoung repeats.

“Oh no... from the dance? We should have never made you perform... You just did so well at practice that I thought... I'm so sorry,” Jaehee says.

You're still unable to speak, but Saeran clarifies, “No, from the masks. They reminded her of...”

Jaehee gasps, instinctively raising a hand to her own mask. “Oh! I never even considered... ”

“It's okay, Jaehee,” you choke out finally. “I didn't either. I'm sorry I ruined our introduction.”

Saeyoung puts a hand on your shoulder. “That isn't important... What's important is are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, but I just feel terrible now about the waltz. What will all the guests think?”

“Don't you worry about that. I took care of it,” Saeyoung tells you with a grin.

“What?”

Saeran looks at his brother questioningly and Jaehee sighs.

 

* * *

 

It takes you almost a hour before you're comfortable enough to return to the ballroom with Saeran. Saeyoung and Jaehee went ahead to instruct the rest of the members to comb the crowd and politely ask the guests wearing full-faced masks to replace them with simpler, more revealing accessories. When asked why, Jumin disclosed it to be for security reasons.

“We cannot have guests under full anonymity,” he states. “We will keep your masks with security and you can retrieve them at the end of the evening.”

The guests comply with little fuss and return to enjoy the party.

“Does it look like I was crying earlier?” you ask Saeran.

“Not at all,” he says while tying the ribbons to your mask. His is already in place.

“What do you think your brother meant when he said he took care of it?”

“I have no idea...” He makes a slight adjustment to your mask to ensure it's even, then stands back to get a look at you.

“Thank you for helping me,” you tell him.

He smiles and takes your hand to lead you out to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. Music from the orchestra floats over the dancers, observers and wallflowers while laughter and conversation intermingles with the notes to create a light and joyous atmosphere.

As you and Saeran make an appearance, you're already being flanked by guests.

“The dance was wonderful! I didn't realize there would be a story to it,” a young woman says excitedly. She takes a small sip from her champagne glass.

 _A story_?

Saeran looks equally confused.

“Oh... yes,” you say, trying to play it off.

“You acted so well,” an older gentleman interjects. “I could see you losing yourself through the number as you were torn further away from your lover.”

_Oh my god._

Saeran takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and instantly takes a swig.

Another woman with curled auburn hair nods. “Oh, yes, yes! A little bird caught in the thralls of predators while her lover looks on, unable to reach her as she's being whisked further and further away from him. The mark of lipstick on his cheek was a nice touch! Along with the feathers, it really made him stand out as the protagonist in the story.”

Your hand travels up to touch the feathers on your mask. You then glance at Saeran's. He's doing the same.

“The cat was obvious, but what were the other animals?” the gentleman inquires thoughtfully.

“Oh, it's symbolic more than anything,” the woman with the glass concludes. “The man in motley was a fox, clearly. Then there's the man with the long, silver hair – he must have been a wolf. Did you see the way he leered at her? The last dancer definitely represented a human man. A hunter probably, judging by her fearful reaction and the black bird's concern. I definitely wasn't expecting the dramatic escape at the end! What a modern twist to a classic dance!”

You can't believe this.

“I cannot figure out the boy in the celestial mask though,” the red-headed woman says, contemplating.

“Perhaps he represents a nocturnal creature, like a raccoon or owl. Better yet, the dark night itself,” the man offers.

“Of course!” The woman taps her glass with her ring.

You smile weakly. “Y-You all got it! That's the story! Good job!” You pull the half full champagne glass from Saeran's hand and take a long sip, then you see Saeyoung in the distance.

“Excuse me,” you say politely while returning the glass to your boyfriend.

Saeran follows closely behind.

“Bird lovers?” you both exclaim simultaneously.

“Yeah! It's good, right?” Saeyoung says with a grin. “I mean especially because you're both-”

“Stop,” Saeran cuts him off.

“No... I mean yes, it's good... but-” You stumble over your words as Jumin, Jaehee, Zen and Yoosung meet up with the three of you.

“People are saying I _leered_ at you,” Zen laments. “I don't leer at women...”

“Yes, you do,” Jumin says.

“Shut up,” Zen snaps. “No one asked you. And go change out of that ridiculous mask already! Just looking at it makes me want to sneeze.”

“No, I like this mask.”

The two of them begin bickering while Yoosung says, “Everyone keeps asking me what I was supposed to be but I can't think of anything!”

“Tell them _the moonless night_ ,” Saeyoung offers playfully. “People will be distracted by how mysterious and cool it sounds that they won't give it a second thought.”

“Yeah but... everyone else was apparently animals...” Yoosung huffs.

“It's poetic!” Saeyoung defends.

“Seven, you really do have a wild imagination to come up with a story like this so quickly, but did you really have to narrate it through the mic on stage afterwards?” Jaehee sighs.

“How else was I supposed to tell everyone at once?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry for binding you in every story so far, MC! ah hah..)
> 
> Thanks for reading!ヾ(✿❛ω❛)ﾉ


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